


Origami

by YouRunWithTheWolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 23:24:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1244356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouRunWithTheWolves/pseuds/YouRunWithTheWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Stiles, sitting in a tree, t-a-l-k-i-n-g.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Origami

**Author's Note:**

> (They're not really sitting in a tree)
> 
> Thanks so much to [Suzie](http://boxofchocolatebunnies.tumblr.com) (super fast), [Chi](http://kitsunepaws.tumblr.com) (super insightful), and [Doreen](http://florafaunamerryweather.tumblr.com) (super helpful) for the beta.

Stiles hates it but he’d rather wait for Scott to say something first. Really, it’s the best course of action at that point. Maybe Scott can talk and Stiles can nod and look deeply into his eyes with an air of understanding and it’ll be enough. The less Stiles speaks, the better.

Scott frowns and rubs his neck anxiously while Stiles bites his nails.

“I’m your best friend, I thought you’d have told me, at least,” Scott finally says, frowning.

Suddenly, the need to defend and explain himself momentarily overpowers his resolution to keep quiet.

“It _literally_ just happened,” Stiles blurts out.

“You could have told me you were into him before.” Scott sits down heavily on the edge of Stiles’s bed and stares him down.

“I wasn’t into him. I’m still not into him. He’s an ass,” Stiles says stubbornly, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“But you’re sleeping with him,” Scott says, lifting a very judgemental eyebrow.

Stiles groans and stares at the ceiling, hoping the roof will tear open and an invisible force will suck him into the air and out of this plane of existence.

“Congrats on the sex, I guess. We promised we’d tell each other when it happened,” Scott says, breaking his reverie.

Stiles ducks his head back down and stares blankly at Scott. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m weirded out. Not mad.”

“Weirded out,” Stiles echoes tonelessly.

“Derek is a far, _far_ cry from being a--how did you put it? ‘Strawberry blonde goddess’?”

“Oh, that.”

They both fall silent. Stiles knows better than to think the conversation is already over, so he waits.

“You never even told me you liked dudes.”

There it is.

“I also like girls, okay? Just for the record.” Stiles shrugs. “I thought you knew, anyway.”

“Duly noted,” Scott says easily. “And yeah, I did know. But you never told me.”

“I’m telling you _now,”_ Stiles says impatiently.

Scott falls silent again. Stiles fidgets.

“Derek Hale, though?” Scott says after a while.

“I know right? What is wrong with me?” Stiles sighs.

“He’s not so bad,” Scott says, frowning. It sounds a lot like he’s defending him and Stiles smiles internally. "He's a good looking dude, too."

“How would you know? If you opened the dictionary to look up the definition of ‘beautiful’ you’d expect to see a picture of Allison in there.”

“Low blow, dude. You know we broke up.”

Stiles is ready to awkwardly offer some sort of apology, scrunching up his face sheepishly, but Scott’s eyes widen with what Stiles can only qualify as a look of utter terror.

“Do you know what this means?” Scott asks in a breathy voice.

Stiles cannot resist such an open question, in any circumstance. “That if I were to look up the definition of ‘awful’, I’d find a picture of you?” he smirks.

Scott ignores him entirely. “It means you’re officially having more sex than I am. That is so depressing.”

Stiles resists the urge to throw his phone at him and groans, while Scott drops the horrified routine to blind him with a smile.

“I should date someone nice. Like Danny,” Stiles mutters in spite of himself. For someone who doesn’t want to have the Derek Conversation, he sure is forth-coming. He curses himself silently.

“Danny thinks you’re weird,” Scott says firmly.

_“Derek_ thinks I’m weird.”

“Yeah, but he likes your weird,” Scott replies with an awkward roll of his shoulders, as though merely rolling his eyes at Stiles isn’t enough.

Stiles doesn’t know what to say to that. Scott gets up from the bed and tugs Stiles up too before wrapping him in a tight hug. It’s sudden but Stiles rolls with it, somehow relieved no one started shouting.

“So we’re good?” he asks uncertainly, mouth pressed against his friend’s shoulder.

“Of course we’re good,” Scott says, almost like he’s offended, squeezing harder.

Stiles presses his lips together self-consciously, twisting them up and down nervously, trying not to smile too much. Scott gives him one last manly slap on the back and they break from their embrace.

“Does Lydia know? Tell me you didn’t tell her yet, I want to be there when it happens,” Scott says, smiling way too broadly.

“I’m not going to tell her, God, Scott. You sound like I need to make an official announcement or something,” Stiles grumbles, rubbing his hand roughly in his hair.

“Well your dad definitely needs one,” Scott says, tilting his head to the side with a little shrug.

“Wow, haha, no.”

“Wow, haha, yes.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at his best friend, his vision reduced to little slits. “I hate it when you think you’re being funny.”

“Joke’s on you cause I’m always funny.” Scott grins, and flops back down on Stiles’s bed. His tone grows a little more serious when he asks, “So, you’re going to keep it a secret? Not telling anyone?”

Stiles rubs at his head harder, making it hurt a little. “I--I don’t know, no I don’t think--I don’t know--My God, Scott, why are you asking me all these questions anyway? Jeez.”

Scott seems to sense his unease because he straightens up on the mattress and loses his smile. “Sorry,” he says. “Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Stiles rushes to Scott’s side on the bed, and tries his best to look calm and collected. His palms are sweating a little bit.

They stay silent for a while, staring at Stiles’s floor, rubbing their hands awkwardly between their knees, until Scott clears his throat and asks, “So, where’s Derek now?”

“I don’t really know… At his place, I suppose.”

“Do I need to go talk to him?”

“Please don’t. What in the hell would you even tell him?”

Scott’s smile makes its grand return. “I would probably say something like…” Scott loses his smile and his voice drops very low, in a very good impression of Derek’s Alpha voice, “ _I’m the Alpha, now. Don’t fuck this up_.”

Stiles nods in a mock-serious manner, secretly and weirdly pleased. “My hero,” he says around an exaggerated sigh.

“So, you’re actually sleeping with him,” Scott says, almost reverently, as if it’s something that shouldn’t be said aloud for mere mortals to hear.

This time, Stiles rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Yes. Scott. I thought we’d covered that already.”

“No, but, like--you’re sleeping with him now. These days. I mean, it’s a thing that happens now. You’re sleeping with Derek Hale. In general. On the regular. You’re--”

“Scott, for the love of God.”

“I’m just saying, you’re in a relationship.”

Stiles makes a weird high-pitched sound in the back of his throat. He tries to distract Scott from the blush that’s certainly coloring his face, staring at the ceiling to scratch his neck.

“We haven’t really--I don’t think… we haven’t talked about this, um… arrangement, yet. Not really, so...”

“You call it an arrangement?” Scott says with a wince. “Dude, that’s weird.”

Stiles snorts. “I know, oh my God, this is all so surreal. I have no idea what’s happening.”

Scott smiles again, clapping him on the back before gripping his shoulder tight, tugging him against his side. “That’s okay, man. Nobody ever knows, at first.”

Stiles smiles back weakly. “It only happened, like--three times. I don’t know if--I don’t know.”

Scott’s grip tightens. “You should ask, then. I can see it’s bothering you.”

“It wasn’t bothering me until you mentioned it,” Stiles exclaims, put out.

“I know you,” Scott says.

He opens his mouth to speak again but his gaze wanders off and he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Stiles is about to ask him what’s wrong but Scott holds up a hand to shut him up.

“Okay, I know you’re gonna freak out anyway, but I’m gonna ask you _not_ to freak out.”

“What? Fuck, Scott, this is literally the best way to have me freak out.”

“Derek’s here. Just heard his car pull up the driveway.”

Stiles’s heartbeat trips and starts back up again, twice as fast.

“I smell aftershave,” Scott says, scrunching his face. “He’s not dying or bleeding. Good news! I’m gonna leave, in case he came here to sex you up.”

Stiles makes an embarrassed noise and ushers Scott out of his room, down the stairs and through the backdoor.

“Ask him if you’re his boyfriend,” Scott says, pushing against the door Stiles is trying to close on his face.

Stiles shushes him anxiously just as Derek knocks on the front door.

“Oh, I almost forgot to ask,” Scott muses, holding the door ajar with one hand effortlessly, ignoring Stiles and his struggle to get him out. “Are you like, in love with him?”

Stiles curses and manages to slam the door on his delighted laughter, locking behind him for good measure.

He shakily makes his way to the front door, and opens it on a very flustered-looking Derek.

“Is there any way you could pretend like you didn’t hear any of--” he gestures weakly to where Scott’s disappeared, _“--that?”_ Stiles finishes, defeated.

“I don’t do pretend very well,” Derek replies softly and Stiles feels ridiculous for feeling affection surge through him.

Stiles’s whole body is tense, straining against nothing to avoid being all up in Derek’s space. It’s been a few days since he last saw him. But he’s missed him. Ridiculous.

“Come in, I guess. You could have texted or something.”

He steps aside, Derek steps inside.

“I thought we were dating,” Derek blurts out a little brusquely after a beat of silence. “Did you tell Scott we weren’t?”

Stiles blinks several times, feeling like he just tried to climb the ever elusive and traitorous non-existent step at the top of an unfamiliar staircase.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know,” Stiles replies, crossing his arms to avoid flailing excitedly. “Are we dating?”

“Yes!” Derek replies impatiently.

“Great!” Stiles exclaims, a little thrown off. After a beat, he adds, “I just told Scott about--you know. Us. In general. Like, the outline of it, if you will.”

Derek deflates. “That’s. That’s good,” he mumbles, ducking his head. “God, how do you manage to make things unnecessarily awkward?”

“It’s a talent,” Stiles says, shrugging. “It’s Scott’s fault anyway. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t… I’m going to strangle him, next time I see him.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “You’ll hurt yourself,” he mutters, sulking his way to the couch, before dropping on the cushions gracefully.

“I can hold my own,” Stiles says confidently, following him to the living room. “I can totally take him.”

Derek tilts his head to the side, smirking a little. “Meh,” he says, squinting incredulously.

By now, Stiles knows when they’re playing, and right now, Derek has his I’m Fucking With You Face on. Stiles gives in to the need to touch and leans against him, treading his fingers along his wrist lightly before taking his hand. Derek goes along with it, turning his palm up to welcome him.

“You know nothing, Derek Hale, I’m like an origami,” Stiles says, deliberately faking seriousness.

Derek frowns, smiling slightly, trying to make sense of the analogy.

“What, like how you’re unnecessarily complex and really annoying to deal with? Like how even when and if you come with a set of instructions people are baffled by your general existence?” Derek asks, barely stopping for breath.

Stiles squeezes his hand harder, trying not to laugh.

“Like how you’re very squashable and a light breeze might blow you away?” Derek goes on, crowding in Stiles’s space, forcing him to lie down on the couch.

“Like how you’re useless, but really pretty to look at?” he goes on, settling over Stiles, a knee between Stiles’s legs.

“Well, I thought it was more along the lines of how I can fold myself to appear tiny and fragile, make you all believe I’m skinny and defenseless, but really when I unfold I’m larger and bigger than people always assume--but I mean, yours work too, I guess,” Stiles says, right against Derek’s lips, planting light kisses on them every other second. “I was just trying to say fuck you because I’m not all skin and bones, okay. Also, origamis are super easy to understand if you do everything step by step, you savage.”

“So you’re saying I should do you step by step?”

That startles an excited laugh out of Stiles. “Wow, um. Okay. Not on the couch, though.”

****  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [hi](http://yourunwiththewolves.tumblr.com).


End file.
